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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24373492">Bearer of the Curse, Find Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Big_Old_Skeleton/pseuds/A_Big_Old_Skeleton'>A_Big_Old_Skeleton</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dark Souls II, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Lesbian Relationship, Cursed crossover, F/F, Short, i will never get tired of using the canon lesbian relationship tag for them, not ever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:41:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24373492</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Big_Old_Skeleton/pseuds/A_Big_Old_Skeleton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A traveler stumbles through a swamp, haunted by grey eyes and a kind smile.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adora/Catra (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bearer of the Curse, Find Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Everything was fading away. It was like she was moving through a fog, driven by something she no longer recalled. One foot in front of the other, through a foetid swamp that made her nose wrinkle in annoyance, through a forest of tangled roots that tripped her and sent her sprawling into the mud, soaking through her gloves and her cloak. Her shoulder itched incessantly, a reminder of a yawning emptiness growing inside her. At night she made a small bonfire and stared into its depths, haunted by the memory of steel grey eyes and blonde hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The appearance of a shack in the woods surprised her - then followed up with another shock of realization that she felt surprised at all. She hadn’t thought anything could cause her to feel surprise anymore. The old woman inside was spinning yarn on a wheel and did not seem surprised to see her. It took a moment for her to remember how to speak, and she greeted the old woman in a voice rusted with disuse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old woman seemed to know what this visitor was doing in her shack, although the visitor did not. In a creaking old voice, she told the traveler of the kingdom of Drangleic, where a cure for her curse could be found. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when she remembered. The mark on her shoulder - the yawning black hole stamped on her flesh, devouring all that she was, all she’d had. Driving her to madness, to murder - to lose… who? What? The Darksign. That’s what it was called. Steel grey eyes soft in the moonlight, a whispered promise, to find...something. Something important. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She asked the old woman, hesitantly, if another had been through this forest. Described grey eyes and blonde hair, strong features and a kind smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old woman’s answer did not satisfy her. “All afflicted with the curse find there way here, sooner or later.” She described how to find the gate to the lost kingdom, and then returned to her spinning. When her visitor stood at the door, hand reaching out hesitantly, as if she’d briefly forgotten what she was doing, the old woman added, “If you wish to find her, you will find her there.” and that seemed to settle the matter. The traveler swung the door open and stepped outside, eyes and hair and a smile driving her forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was two nights later when she realized that she should’ve been hungry, but she cannot remember the last time she had anything to eat. How was she still alive? </span>
  <em>
    <span>You aren’t. You are marked by the Darksign. Undead. Cursed. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The words came back to her from somewhere that she could not recall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found the ruined gate overlooking a bottomless lake, and found a small rowboat to take her across. Fireflies gathered around her, drawn by something - the guttering ember of her soul, perhaps, or maybe the scent of her desiccated flesh, drawn tight over features that are barely recognizable now, covered by wrappings as a guard against the stares of fellow travelers (not that she had seen any fellow travelers for ages now, the old woman in the shack had been the first person she saw in nearly a year, as best as she could remember). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boat glided easily across the lake, and she felt a slight crunch as it ran aground on the bank. The fireflies were moving in a massive crowd now, and blew past her in a flurry as torches sprang to life on the other side of the ruined arch. There was an explosion of wind and a howling noise as a gaping whirlpool opened up in the lake, dragging her boat down with it. She peered down into the whirling depths, her cloak whipping in the wind. Was this where she would find the cure? Was this where she’d find the eyes and hair that taunted her? There was never really a choice, not for her. She stepped forward and fell into the abyss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had no way of telling how long she fell, but eventually, overwhelmed by exhaustion, she fell asleep while falling. She woke to find herself on the cold stone floor of a ruined dais in a grassy field. There was a path and she took it, hearing the sound of small creatures in the grass as she went. The glow of torchlight caught her eye, and she made for it instinctively. She could feel her mind deteriorating further with every step - as if something about this place was accelerating the curse’s progression. By the time she made it to the door, she’d forgotten why she’d come, and opened the door only because the sound of voices on the other side piqued some ember of curiosity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three old women sat around a table, laughing. A fourth, younger, wearing similar clothes, tended a pot of stew at the corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, another undead has come, sisters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One close to spent, no less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s almost completely hollow now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seeking the cure, no doubt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fool’s errand. Just like the others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let’s not be too hasty. Perhaps this one will succeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha! Success is impossible for the poor dear. Just look at the state of her. She’s lost nearly all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” one of the old ladies turned her attention to the traveller. “Tell us your name, undead. If you can remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She closed her eyes tightly, tried to remember. Who was she? Why was she here? She’d come seeking someone, hadn’t she? Gray eyes and blonde hair and a smile and soft voice whispering “Catra.” she said, voice croaking dryly. “My name is Catra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, this one can remember her name, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a long time since we saw two undead remember their names so close together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well go on then,” one of the old women cackled, holding out a small doll, “you’ve earned it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra reached out and took the doll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead, look deeply into it. What do you see? Does it remind you of someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra stared at the doll, focused on it until, with a shudder, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>remembered</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adora stood framed in the doorway, smiling in that infuriatingly confident way she always did. “There’s a cure, Catra! I can break the curse!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Adora…” Catra crossed the room and took her wife’s hands in her own. “Are you sure it’s not just going to be another dead end? We can just… we can just stay here, together, until the end.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adora’s expression was heartbreaking. “I can’t do that, Catra. You </span>
  </em>
  <span>know</span>
  <em>
    <span> I can’t. I won’t stay here and watch this take you away from me. I’m going to fight it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Catra wanted to argue, wanted to rage, wanted to accuse Adora of abandoning her - but she knew in her bones that Adora, her beautiful, kind Adora who she’d known her whole life, who had fought in wars and hung up her sword for what was supposed to be a peaceful retirement, who had never cared that Catra had been too busy running with a pack of treasure hunters and explorers to do the same and had accepted her back when Catra had realized the treasure she sought was in fact walking around and named Adora - wasn’t the sort of person who would give up and accept the end. So she’d let Adora go, telling her to send word within a week, begging her to do so in fact - but then, two days after Adora had left, Catra found herself pulling a trunk out from a closet to grab her own swords, throw on some armor, and set off after her. Because what was the point of waiting until she forgot the reason she was waiting? Eventually someone would realize she carried the curse and send her to the asylum, and Catra was not one for asylums. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did a woman pass through here?” Catra asked, voice stronger, senses once again sharp, mismatched eyes bright and determined. “Blonde, grey-eyed? Named-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adora.” the youngest woman says, looking over at Catra. “Yes. She came here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We told her the same we’ll tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to feed on souls, lest you lose your humanity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you will lose your humanity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your souls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Over and over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Until you go Hollow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young woman looked at the three cackling old women and beckoned Catra over. She pressed a note into Catra’s palm. “Your Adora left this. She seemed to believe you would follow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Catra,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know, that’s your line. The old women here tell me it is impossible to return home. They tell me that I am now fated to wander the ruined kingdom alone until the curse becomes too much to bear and I lose the memory of you again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do not believe them. I do not believe there is no hope. If you got my last letter, before I forgot everything, then you’ve found your way here. Find me. I will continue to seek a cure, but I will leave a mark for you. Our mark, remember? Milibeth - the young woman who gave you this letter - says that time and geography are fluid in the lands beyond, but with the right tool we can reach out across the fissures and find one another. A small white stone. I have one, but you will have to find one yourself. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am sorry for leaving you, Catra. I should have dragged you with me. I will not stop looking for you, or for a cure to this curse. I love you. As far gone as my memories were, I still remembered your eyes and your smile. Find me soon, dearest.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love always,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adora</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra read through the note, tears in her eyes. She swallowed back a sob and bowed low to Milibeth. “Thank you. I will not forget this kindness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These three were once firekeepers.” Milibeth explained. “As the fire fades, they have lost hope and now… well. I care for them as I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catra left the shack and found a smouldering bonfire. She held out her hand and felt a tug from within, and the fire burst to life. It warmed her, and she felt further strength returning to her body. She drew her swords and began walking down the path, deep into the unknown. Her purpose was back. She was going to find Adora, and nothing was going to stop her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Man did you know you can't do two colored eyes in the Dark Souls II character creator? That's some <i>bullshit</i>.</p><p>Anyway I had this idea and I needed to get it out and now here we all are, all Bearer Seek Seek Lest but this time there's a cat girl and her dumb kind buff sword girlfriend out there running about.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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